


The Only Way Out is Through

by platypusperson



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Gay Peter Parker, Harry Osborn is a jerk, Light Angst, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mildly Dubious Consent, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker-centric, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy, The Peter/Harry is very brief, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Unplanned Pregnancy, mostly consensual anyway, underage because they're both teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platypusperson/pseuds/platypusperson
Summary: When Peter Parker finally loses his virginity to his boyfriend of six months, Harry, his only concern is whether he was ready and if their relationship was worth it. He certainly wasn't expecting some surprise consequences of his spider powers to make an appearance because of it, nine months down the line...





	1. May

**Author's Note:**

> \- This first chapter is more of just a prologue to introduce the story, I swear the others will be longer!  
> \- I know absolutely nothing about Harry Osborn other than that he's friends with Peter in some of the earlier Spiderman movies (the only one I've seen is Homecoming, and that's what this fic is based off of), so don't be offended if his character is inaccurate. He's only in the story briefly so I figured I'd throw a familiar name on him to make it more interesting and Spiderman-y  
> \- Just to warn you, both Peter and Harry are teenagers when they have sex, and it's not really 100% consensual because Harry kind of pressures Peter into it, but Peter still gives verbal consent and stuff, it's more just that he regrets it after so I don't think it's too big a deal but beware if that kind of thing bothers you!  
> \- This takes place the spring after Homecoming, so it's still the same school year and Peter's still 15. I am completely ignoring Infinity War though so don't expect any of that stuff to happen  
> I hope you enjoy the story!

Peter walked down the street, hoping nobody could tell that he was sore, well, back there. He was sure he would absolutely die of embarrassment if anyone called him out on walking slightly funny, or worse, asked why he was doing it.

Less than an hour ago, he had lost his virginity to his first and current boyfriend, Harry. Harry had been asking him to have sex with him for the past few months, but Peter had wanted to take things slow, since he (unlike Harry) had never done any of it before. As they neared their six month anniversary, Harry had suggested that would be a good day to sleep together for the first time, as a way to celebrate, and Peter hadn’t been completely sure that he was ready to take that step but figured it would be kind of romantic and besides, he felt guilty making Harry wait too long. And how could he say no to Harry when he had been so eager as he mentioned the idea, talking about how much he cared about Peter and how he just wanted to cross this final barrier between them so they could be even closer than they already were? Peter had always been a bit of a sap at heart, so after that adorable speech, he’d relented pretty quickly.

But when it had actually happened, the experience hadn’t been what he was expecting. He’d been a bit nervous about the whole thing, but had let Harry undress him and prep him (Harry had stated in no uncertain terms that he only liked topping, so Peter had agreed that he might as well bottom since he didn’t have a preference yet) nonetheless. And it wasn’t like he had any complaints about that; Harry had used plenty of lube and did a perfectly fine job getting him nice and stretched out, so he’d only felt a little pain when Harry finally did enter him from behind.

It hadn’t been bad, the whole thing had just felt…impersonal. Harry had fucked him hard and fast from the get-go, never slowing down or changing pace, and had come inside of him before Peter even realized that he wasn’t wearing a condom (when Peter mentioned that, Harry assured him that they didn’t have to worry, he was perfectly healthy and Peter was a virgin. Something about that didn’t sound right to Peter). Afterwards, he’d laid down on the bed next to him and promptly fallen asleep, leaving Peter to finish himself off with his hand, clean up on his own, and walk to the subway without so much as a post-coital kiss or even, now that he thought about it, a “Happy Anniversary”. The whole act was supposed to have been their moment of great intimacy, coming together as one, being closer than ever before, etc. etc., but instead had left Peter feeling more alone than ever before.

As he neared his and May’s apartment, Peter tried to push his doubts and uneasiness away. He had to be overreacting. Harry cared about him, right? And everyone said that your first time wasn’t supposed to be very good anyway. They could talk about it, figure things out. Surely Harry hadn’t meant to fall asleep afterwards. Maybe he’d had something special planned for their anniversary and Peter was the one who had ruined it by not waking Harry up. That had to be it. Oh well, Peter could make it up to him another time.

And with that thought running through his head, Peter successfully shoved his worries deep enough that they couldn’t reach him anymore, confident that as long as the two of them stuck together, everything would be just fine.


	2. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short chapter, but I got carried away making stuff detailed. Hope you like it! Feel free to leave kudos, comments, suggestions, mistakes, etc if you want!

Two weeks later, Peter was in the mirrored elevator riding up to Harry’s apartment, carrying a bag of food from the burger place several blocks over that he knew Harry loved. It had taken him an extra half hour to pick up the food, even with Peter practically running to the apartment complex so that the fries wouldn’t get too cold, but he was sure it would be worth it in order to surprise Harry.

Harry had been acting distant ever since the two of them had had sex, and it was starting to freak Peter out. Had he been that bad at it? Was something wrong? After stressing out about it nearly constantly, Peter had decided that it was time for him to talk to Harry about it. So after a successful Saturday night patrol that had boosted his confidence and an unusually long sleep, Peter had woken up that morning refreshed and eager to confront Harry as soon as possible so that he could stop worrying about it.

He hadn’t bothered to tell Harry that he was coming over, hoping that it would be a pleasant surprise (and a little afraid that Harry would make some excuse not to have him there if he mentioned it, but only a little). However, when he’d texted him an hour earlier and asked what his plans were for the day, Harry had assured him that he was having a lazy Sunday and would be relaxing at home for the next few hours. With the food as a peace offering, Peter was sure he’d be excited to see him.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened up on one of the highest floors. Peter got out and speed walked down the hallway, feet treading tentatively on the plush carpet. Harry’s dad was crazy rich, and Peter always felt a bit out of place when he came over, despite Harry’s reassurances. Stopping in front of the door to their apartment, Peter took a deep breath and then knocked, rising up and down on the balls of his feet as he waited for some sort of answer. When nothing came, he knocked again. Still the door didn’t open. Peter sighed. Harry was probably watching television or playing Xbox with the volume all the way up again.

Testing the doorknob, Peter rolled his eyes to find it unlocked. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, which Peter supposed must be the result of living in such a nice building. People assumed thieves wouldn’t be able to get past the doorman (who recognized Peter by now, something he was grateful for, as he always feared that one day someone would call him out on not belonging when he came here). It was a sharp difference from the way he and May had 3 locks on their door and still got the odd break in, not that there was much in their apartment to steal.

Slipping inside of the apartment and carefully shutting the door behind him, Peter turned right and crept down the hallway that led towards the living room, checking to make sure he was still carrying the burgers. “Harry?” he called softly. He reached the living room, only to find it empty and the TV off. Huh, that was weird.

He turned back, passing the kitchen (no Harry) and heading towards his bedroom instead. Harry wasn’t particularly hard to find, seeing as he spent most of his time in two places. Sure enough, as Peter neared Harry’s bedroom door, he heard noise coming from inside. “Harry?” he called again, knocking on the door. Not hearing any change inside, he opened the door and walked in, only to drop the bag of food on the ground in shock.

Harry was in the room, just like he thought. What he hadn’t expected was for him to be balls deep in some blond girl that looked vaguely familiar, as if Peter might have passed her in the hallways at school once or twice but had never talked to her. “What the fuck?” Peter cried out, unable to look away from the sight. Both of them turned to look at him, Harry still thrusting in and out of the slightly bored looking girl. “Who’s this?” The girl asked Harry, as if Peter wasn’t even there.

“Oh, just a guy I know,” Harry told her, also hardly acknowledging Peter’s presence. Peter was furious, though he also felt his bottom lip quivering slightly in hurt. Over six months of dating and he was just some guy? And Harry wasn’t even reacting to being caught cheating? He just kept fucking the girl he’d cheated on Peter with? When earlier that day he’d texted Peter as if nothing was wrong?

What an asshole.

“Fuck you, Harry,” Peter spat out viciously. “You were a shitty boyfriend anyway, not to mention absolutely terrible in bed. Have a nice life.” And with that, he turned and stomped out of the room, hearing the girl on the bed laughing and saying “Oh shit” behind him. As he went, he made sure to snatch up the bag of food off the floor and take it with him. Harry sure as hell didn’t deserve to eat it.

Peter’s rage carried him blindly all the way down the elevator, past the friendly doorman, and onto the street before he burst into tears. Sinking down against the wall at the end of a random alleyway, he cried and cried, clutching weakly at the white paper bag in his hands and ignoring the odd weird look from pedestrians passing by. He felt like such an idiot. Harry had probably been cheating on him this whole time and he hadn’t even noticed. He’d really thought Harry had cared about him, thought they were a great couple and had a great relationship. Had Harry ever even liked him, or had he just gone out with him for the heck of it? Peter remembered the day he’d gotten up the courage to ask Harry out for the first time and how excited he’d been when he’d said yes. Had any of it ever been real, or had Harry just been playing him the whole time?

He cried even harder when he remembered that this, this piece of trash, was the guy he’d lost his virginity to. Peter was well aware that virginity was a social construct, etc. etc., but while that wasn’t a huge deal to him, sex in itself was. He’d wanted to wait for someone he cared about and who cared about him, someone he had that love and trust with. Instead he’d thrown it all away on a guy who didn’t even care about him as an individual. God, it was _so clear now_. Harry had just wanted him for sex. As soon as he’d stopped protesting and given that to him, it was as if he didn’t matter anymore.

A small part of Peter wondered if maybe he and Harry would still be together if he’d held out longer. Had he been too easy? Was he a slut or something for giving in? But no, he reminded himself, that was a ridiculous way to think. The harsh truth was that Harry had probably been cheating on him regardless throughout most of their relationship. Putting off sex would have just been delaying the inevitable point in time when Harry got tired of him and moved on. At least now he could get on with his life and stop wasting his time on someone who didn’t care about him, no matter how much the thought hurt.

Still sniffling, Peter wiped away his tears on the bottom of his science t-shirt (it was one that Harry had complimented a few times, inspiring him to wear it for his surprise. It was a shirt he liked a lot, too. A shame, considering he doubted he’d be able to wear it again without thinking of Harry) and stood up on shaky legs. He began to walk home, handing the slightly damp bag of food to a grateful-looking homeless person as he went. On the bright side, at least he wouldn’t have to walk across town all the time to see Harry anymore (now that he thought about it, it occurred to him that Harry had only come to his apartment once or twice in their entire relationship. Wow).

As he finally let himself into the apartment, he heard footsteps in the kitchen. Great. “Hey Peter, I got back from work early! How was Ha-” May cut off abruptly when she poked her head out around the corner, holding a dish towel. “Oh, honey. What’s wrong, Peter?”

Peter shook his head, trying to muster a fake smile. “It’s nothing, really.”

May ducked back into the kitchen briefly before emerging to see him, hands free. Not asking any more questions, she looked him over to make sure he wasn’t injured before pulling him into a hug. Peter started to cry again at the tenderness, though he tried to stifle it out of embarrassment. “It’s okay, honey. Let it out.” May crooned, stroking the back of his head gently. God, he loved her so much.

“I just – it’s just – Harry’s been cheating on me, May, I don’t even know how long – I caught him with this girl and he didn’t even seem to care, he wasn’t even ashamed of it, and I just – I just feel so _stupid_ ,” Peter blubbered into her neck.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. That’s awful, Peter. That’s horrible of Harry to do that to you, but you listen to me now, okay? That wasn’t your fault. Harry cheated because he was a jerk, not because of anything you did. You couldn’t have known he would do that.” May comforted him, hugging him even tighter so that he wouldn’t see the sadness on her face. She hated when Peter was upset and there was nothing she could do about it. But she could still try her best.

She let Peter cry in her arms for a bit longer before she pulled away to gently pat his tears dry with the corner of her apron, which she promptly took off. “I’m going to go out and get us some takeout, but I’ll be right back, and then we’re going to snuggle up on the couch and make popcorn and watch a movie, whatever you want, okay? You can go pick one out while I get the food.”

“Thanks, May,” he muttered softly, voice rough from crying, as she kissed him on the forehead, grabbed her keys, and rushed out the door. Heaving a sigh, he walked over to the couch and proceeded to examine their movie options.

They spent the evening exactly how May said they would, with Peter in her arms, and by the end of it, Peter almost felt okay.


	3. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where we start to get more into the actual plot of the story! Hope you like it and as always, feel free to leave comments, kudos, suggestions, etc!

It took some time, but Peter got over Harry. Fortunately, there’d only been two weeks left of school when he’d caught Harry cheating, after which he had the whole summer to not have to pass him in the hallways or see him in class. Peter threw himself into studying for finals even more vigorously than normal, needing the distraction. He also upped the hours he spent working in the lab with Mr. Stark after school, which was part of the real internship Tony had offered him a few months ago, once May found out that he was Spider-Man and they no longer needed to have a cover story at all times. They’d had plans for him to spend more time there once summer started anyway, so he’d figured he was really just transitioning into that a little earlier.

At first, he’d also increased the length of his Spider-Man patrols, desperate to occupy every millisecond of his time so that he wouldn’t be able to think about Harry too much, but Tony and May had shut that down pretty quickly. They insisted that he needed to get some sleep and that he was patrolling plenty and would probably patrol even more once summer came. He supposed they were right, but it still had left him with the odd free moment in the evenings that he didn’t like.

But the two weeks passed by, even if they felt slowly. He was pretty sure he’d aced all his final exams, probably due to the extra studying (thanks, Harry). And then he was free for the summer, ready to completely forget Harry and the disastrous six and a half months he had spent with him. Without the worry of constantly running into him, and with more time for his internship with Mr. Stark, being Spider-Man, and even reconnecting with the few friends he’d had before devoting half of his life to Harry, it was pretty easy to cheer up and stop thinking about him.

It helped that hindsight was 20/20. Looking back, Peter could clearly see all the times Harry had been a jerk to him that he hadn’t noticed before. Cancelling plans last minute, only doing things when it was convenient for him, changing his phone password every time Peter learned what it was (a clear indication of cheating, Peter now realized); the presents Peter had once thought romantic were clearly all half-assed. Hell, the guy had fallen asleep the first time they’d had sex. Not exactly a catch, or someone to miss.

The only issue was that Peter was pretty sure he was getting sick. Or maybe it was more like staying sick. He’d noticed himself feeling more tired than usual during exam week, but had assumed it was just because, you know, exams. But even once school was over, he had continued to feel almost constantly tired, despite sleeping more than ever. With that came occasional mood swings, though when May caught him on a crying jag one afternoon he had blamed it on residual sadness from the Harry thing, despite the fact that he was essentially over that by now. Still, it seemed a better reason than saying he had no idea why he was crying. Peter even found his chest aching occasionally, which solidified the idea that it might be a very slow-progressing cold.

Overall, it wasn’t a huge deal, more just concerning. He hadn’t gotten sick since the spider bite (excluding those first few days of fever and severe pain that came immediately after) and honestly didn’t think he would be able to with his healing factor. But there was really no other explanation for the way he’d been feeling.

It wasn’t until early July, on the third week of summer vacation, that things got bad. Peter was spending the day in the lab with Tony, as he was now doing three to four full days a week. They were working on upgrading the Iron Man suit even further, trying to figure out a way to exponentially increase the amount of nanites within the arc reactor. It was fascinating work, and Peter loved that he and Tony had gotten close enough for Tony to trust him with helping repair and build the Iron Man suits, something no employee was allowed to do.

“Hey kid, can you hand me those pliers over there?” Tony asked, fiddling with one of the bolts on a joint.

“Yeah, one second.” Peter set down his screwdriver and was reaching to grab the pliers when he felt the nausea hit him abruptly. If it wasn’t for his super-reflexes, he probably wouldn’t have made it to the trash can in time. As it was, he sprinted across the room and barely was able to fall to his knees before he vomited aggressively into the trash can. He heaved several more times, emptying his stomach. It wasn’t until he finally stopped that he noticed Mr. Stark kneeling beside him, with one hand rubbing soothing circles on Peter’s back.

“You okay, kid?” He asked softly, continuing to rub Peter’s back as he trembled and gasped for breath on the floor.

“Yeah, I just got really nauseous all of a sudden.” Peter told him, still leaning over the trash can just in case. They sat there on the floor for a few minutes until Peter declared that he was probably done, at which point Tony helped him stand and led him to a sink, handing him a cup to rinse his mouth out.

When Peter turned back around after doing so, Tony was leaning against some cupboards, watching him. “So, has this happened before?” he asked.

Peter shook his head. “No, I haven’t thrown up in years. Didn’t think I could get sick, with my powers.” He replied truthfully.

Tony tilted his head, contemplating that. “Alright, so this is strange. Any other symptoms? Are you going to pass out or something?”

“I’ve been feeling kind of tired lately, but that’s about it,” Peter told him, not quite as honestly. He wasn’t lying, just…leaving out a minor few details.

Tony looked him up and down suspiciously for a few moments, but acquiesced eventually. “Okay, well you’re going to take the rest of the day off and go lie down at home. Stay hydrated, and eat some crackers if you still feel nauseous. Keep a bucket by you just in case. You can come back tomorrow if you’re feeling better, but you don’t have to. Spider-interns get unlimited sick days, okay?” Tony finished off his serious orders with a playful wink, but quickly turned solemn again. “If this keeps happening, or if you develop any more symptoms, you tell me about it, okay? I don’t care how minor, if it’s unusual, I want to hear it. This is most likely just some sort of fluke, or a one-time thing, but we don’t know much about your biology and that makes situations like these dangerous for you. It can’t hurt to be too careful.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you if anything else gets weird,” Peter interjected before Mr. Stark could continue with his lecture. “But I feel better now, I don’t have to go home…” He still felt a little queasy, but nothing he couldn’t power through.

Tony fixed him with his best stern glare. “You are going home to rest up and recover, whether you like it or not. Boss’s orders.”

Peter sighed. He was pretty stubborn, but Tony was just as bad, if not worse. He’d learned early on that once the “that’s an order” voice came out, it was not a fight Peter was going to win. “Okay, but I’m pretty sure I’m fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You’ll be back tomorrow, if and only if you feel better tomorrow.” Tony told him, raising an eyebrow. “I will not hesitate to send you home again, though Happy might not be very happy having to pick you up early a second time. Tomorrow’s his golf day, you know.”

Peter held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, fine, I’ll rest, recover, all that good stuff. No need to threaten me, old man.”

“Hey!” Tony cried.

“But anyway, I can get home fine on my own. Happy doesn’t need to take me right now,” Peter continued, packing up his stuff.

“Too late, I already called him. The car’s waiting for you in the garage. Here, take this with you just in case,” Tony said as he handed Peter a plastic bucket he’d pulled out from who-knows-where.

Peter took it. “Okay, well, thanks Mr. Stark! I’ll see you tomorrow. Sorry about your trash can.” With that, he turned around and started walking through the lab towards the door.

He had just reached it when Tony yelled across to him, “Peter?”

“Yeah?” he called back, swiveling to look at him.

“Don’t even think about going on patrol tonight. I’ll know. Karen will not hesitate to rat you out.”

“Fine!” Peter shouted back, rolling his eyes. Damn. He’d been hoping it wouldn’t count as disobeying if Tony hadn’t directly told him not to do it.

Peter made it all the way home without vomiting again, much to Happy’s relief, but within twenty minutes of getting into the apartment found himself making good use of the bucket Tony had given him. Still feeling nauseous even after he threw up, he decided to take Tony’s advice for once and curled up in bed with a water bottle and a box of crackers.

After throwing up for a third time a while later, he checked his phone. There was one new text message.

**Mr. Stark: Hey kid, just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay. Hope you feel better soon**

Peter collapsed back into his bed, smiling at Tony’s concern. Tony always acted like he didn’t care about anyone, but was really just a big softie at heart. After a moment of thought, Peter typed out a quick response and sent it back.

**Yeah, I’m feeling much better! Thanks Mr. Stark**

It wasn’t completely false. He certainly felt better emotionally after getting the text from Mr. Stark, simply from being reminded that there were people like Tony and May that cared about him. Now, if only he could stop throwing up…


	4. July (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things start getting really interesting.....  
> Also, keep in mind that this is all fictional, so be prepared for some of the medical stuff not to be completely accurate. My theory for this is that the spider bite changing his DNA made it possible for Peter to get pregnant, but he's still mostly human so he has the normal pregnancy symptoms of a human woman. All you need to know is that Peter is pregnant (I don't think this is a spoiler because it's in the story summary and the tags and getting kinda obvious by this point, but let me know if you think I should make this an end note instead) and that it can be proven by a pregnancy test (even though in real life if he had lots of hCG in his body for any other reason the tests would still show as positive).  
> Hope you like this chapter! As always, comments, criticism, suggestions, and kudos are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Peter did not stop throwing up.

Well, he did for short periods of time. The morning after he’d first vomited, Peter had woken up and felt completely fine, enough that he wasn’t even lying to Mr. Stark when he’d insisted on being well enough to join him in the lab. However, just as Peter had been walking back from lunch, he’d felt the now-familiar nausea rise up in his gut and had ducked quickly into the bathroom before Mr. Stark could see him throw up everything he’d just eaten. The next few days continued along in a similar pattern, with Peter vomiting at completely random times, regardless of what or how much he had eaten (or even if he’d eaten anything at all). Sometimes he felt nauseous but didn’t puke; other times he found himself vomiting without even the slight warning the nausea provided him. There was no rhyme or reason to it, which made it all the more frustrating when his body refused to stop.

He’d tried to hide it at first, not wanting to be sent home from the lab again or banned from patrolling (though the first time he threw up just after a fight and had to wipe vomit off the edge of his mask hadn’t been particularly fun either). The only reasons he’d actually managed to keep it a secret for the better part of the next week were that Tony had been stressed out about some big contract and had needed to leave the lab for meetings several times and that May got scheduled to work most of the weekend.

But after Tony had witnessed him throwing up the first time, getting caught was inevitable, as Peter realized when he came out of the bathroom stall one day, wiping his mouth, to find Tony leaning against the bathroom wall, tapping his expensive shoes on the tile floor and looking extremely unimpressed. “So, care to tell me what you were doing in there? Because based on the noise, the length of visit, and the sight of your feet nearly poking out from underneath the stall door, you were in there puking. But that can’t be right, because you told me that you stopped throwing up after last Tuesday, and surely you would have informed me if you’d started again, considering you agreed to let me know if anything “unusual” happened, right?”

Peter froze. Yep, he was busted. And Tony did not seem particularly forgiving right now.

“What, no snappy remark? No valid reason as to why you were in there? Unless you actually were throwing up, which would mean that you’d been lying to me for the past week, which is a very big no-no. Though I suppose it would explain the increased number of bathroom breaks you’ve been taking, or why I keep finding fresh bags in the trash cans after I leave the lab, or a few strange reports I’ve gotten from Karen about your vitals that I didn’t look at because I value your privacy and trusted you to tell me when something was wrong.”

Ouch, the trust thing was a low blow. “Mr. Stark,” Peter started.

“No, Peter, just listen to me for a second, because I’m not in the mood to hear a shitty explanation right now. This is not supposed to be a punishment. It’s not supposed to be you showing some unfathomable sign of weakness that’s going to result in you getting the suit taken away. It’s supposed to be as simple as you coming to me for help, because you can’t do everything alone in the world and it’s okay to need help, and me trying to do what’s best to help you because I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you,” Tony spoke quieter now. “Take it from the guy who’s already had about four lifetimes worth of medical issues: you can’t just ignore stuff when it comes to your health, Peter, no matter how much you want to. You have to think ahead. If you get crazy sick because you let an illness go untreated too long, what’s going to happen to Spider-Man then?”

Peter stood there, frozen. He knew Mr. Stark was right; he’d just been afraid of showing how weak he’d become lately. Of course he trusted him, but he supposed he really didn’t know how to ask for help. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he murmured. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Tony stood there, silent for a moment as he stared at the floor, before he sighed heavily and lifted his head up to look at Peter once more. “Alright, so how long has this been happening? How many times a day? Is it every day? Give me the details, kid.” After rubbing his hands together the way he always did in anticipation of new information, he put an arm around Peter’s shoulder and led him out of the bathroom, a gesture he knew was Tony’s way of saying that he was forgiven.

Peter answered all of Tony’s questions as they made their way down to the medical floor, where Tony insisted he had to get a checkup. “Hey Peter, back again?” one of the nurses asked him teasingly as he walked by.

“Yeah, you know me,” Peter quipped back nervously; Dr. Helen was the only person down here who knew that he was Spider-Man (she was the go-to doctor for all the Avengers, and Tony had promised that she’d keep his secret no problem). The rest of the nurses just thought he was a personal intern to Tony Stark who managed to get injured really, really often.

“I don’t like this,” Tony told the doctor as she led them into a separate room (perks of your boss owning the entire medical floor – no wait times). “The kid hasn’t gotten sick in years because of his healing factor and suddenly he’s tired and throwing up constantly.”

“It’s almost as if he’s pregnant,” Dr. Helen joked as she prepared her stethoscope and other tools.

Peter laughed along with Tony. He always liked how Dr. Helen wasn’t as serious as other doctors he’d had; it made her less imposing. Thank god he couldn’t get pregnant though, especially after Harry had been an ass and hadn’t bothered using a condom.

Dr. Helen took all his basic measurements, then consulted her clipboard and turned to report to Tony and Peter. “This does seem to be rather unusual. No sign of a fever, which would indicate some type of stomach bug. However, your heart rate is definitely accelerated, compared to normal. I’d like to take a blood sample so that we can further test what’s happening internally.”

Peter sat patiently as she drew his blood and then poured several drops into a machine. Tony made him get checked out in medical often enough that the procedure was old news at this point.

“Okay, this is also a bit strange,” the doctor told them, her face scrunched slightly in confusion. “It’s nothing too extreme, but our initial readings of your blood say that there’s slightly more plasma than usual as well as fewer red blood cells. I’m going to send this sample in for further testing, as that could be a sign of a more serious problem. We’ll call you later with the results.” She set down her clipboard and leaned against the counter. “In the meantime, I would normally give you some kind of drug to help with the nausea, but your metabolism would most likely burn through it too fast for it to be effective. And until we have a better idea of what’s going on, I’d rather not produce any extra strength drugs for you. I’m sorry, but it’s always a bit touch and go with enhanced individuals. Let me know if the vomiting gets worse.”

After agreeing to keep her posted, Tony took Peter up to the penthouse to watch a movie with him on the couch, knowing that the kid wouldn’t want to go home early (and also wanting to keep an eye on him for a bit longer, not that he would admit to that). They watched Star Wars together until Peter had to go home for dinner, and when he threw up into a nearby trash can during the throne room scene, Tony rubbed his back until both their knees ached from the hardwood floor.

Later that night, while Peter was suiting up to go out and patrol, his phone rang with a call from Tony. “Hey, Mr. Stark, what’s up?” he answered.

“Not much, underoos, just wanted let you know that the results came back from the lab for your blood work. They said that while your blood is mostly normal, there’s a very high amount of hCG present, which is weird. It seems like there might be something going on with your testosterone levels, but you’re not showing any other symptoms pertaining to that. Basically, Dr. Helen wants to see you for more scans tomorrow.” Peter could hear the hint of disappointment from Tony; he knew how much Tony hated inconclusive data and waiting for results.

“Huh, that’s pretty weird, but I guess I can go in for more scans,” Peter replied absent-mindedly, trying to suit up without dropping the phone.

“Peter…” It was the pure concern in Mr. Stark’s voice that made him stop what he was doing and focus on the call. “Are you sure you haven’t come into contact with any weird substances in the past few weeks? Strange drugs on patrol? Anything like that?”

Concentrating hard, Peter thought back to his last week as Spider-Man before the all vomiting started (though really, he’d felt weird even before that). There’d been nothing out of the ordinary; in fact, he’d noticed that there seemed to be less crime than usual, possibly because of the heat. Even as he combed through the memories of his past month of patrols, there’d only been a few drug busts, and they’d all involved sealed up shipments of drugs. Nothing out of the ordinary had so much as touched his suit.

“No, Mr. Stark, I’m pretty sure I haven’t,” Peter told him honestly. “Everything’s been normal on patrol lately.”

He heard Tony huff, as though smothering a sigh. “Okay, kiddo, that’s fine. We’ll get you back into medical tomorrow, and I’m sure they’ll be able to figure out what’s going on. It’s probably nothing to worry about.” They said their goodbyes, and a few moments later Peter was hanging up the phone.

For the first time, he found himself really thinking about being sick, past just trying to hide it. Mr. Stark sounded legitimately worried about him. And he really hadn’t thought he would ever be able to get sick, so this could be something pretty serious. Not to mention, it wasn’t going away.

Oh god, what if he was really sick? What if something had gone wrong inside of him? Was he going to die? What if he never got better? He couldn’t spend the rest of his life throwing up multiple times a day. He didn’t want to, at least. What if the spider bite had done more than he realized? Maybe the enhancement from it had only been temporary and then was going to make him deathly ill after a certain amount of time.

No, Peter, calm down, he told himself. Everything was probably fine. He felt pretty gross, sure, but he didn’t feel like he was _dying_. That would probably feel much worse. Besides, if he was really sick, Mr. Stark could help. The guy had overcome medical issues to save his own life multiple times, after all. There wasn’t a person in the world that would be better to have in his corner at a time like this.

More relaxed now, Peter decided to do a little research of his own before heading out on patrol. Grabbing the Stark brand laptop he’d gotten for Christmas (he always felt bad whenever Mr. Stark gave him free stuff, but had to admit that having a laptop was really helpful), he typed “vomiting, nausea, tiredness” into google. Maybe they were overthinking things and he actually just had some minor human illness affecting him more severely than usual because of his different genes. Considering he had the best doctors in the world, overlooking stuff was unlikely, but it couldn’t hurt to check, right?

When he hit the search button, the screen filled instantly with articles about morning sickness, early signs of pregnancy, and more along those lines. Peter scrolled past all of them, seeing as they didn’t apply to him, but gave up when he reached the fourth page of nonstop pregnancy articles. Apparently his symptoms really were very similar to if he was pregnant, he thought as he remembered the joke the doctor had made earlier. She wasn’t wrong there.

Remembering the phone call from Tony, Peter had a new idea. He googled “hCG”, figuring that if there was high levels of something in his blood, it couldn’t hurt to know what it was. To his surprise, the screen filled once more with articles about being pregnant. He hit refresh, sure that it must still be on his last search, but nothing changed.

Clicking on the top article, Peter learned that hCG was short for human chorionic gonadotropin, a hormone in both males and females that affects sexual development. However, high levels of it were only found in…pregnant women.

Leaning all the way back in his chair, Peter stared at the screen. It seemed way too coincidental that he had literally all the symptoms of being pregnant, and yet there was no way he could be pregnant. Or could he? Maybe he was…but no, that made absolutely no sense. Guys didn’t get pregnant; it was biologically impossible. But then again, he and Harry had had unprotected sex not that long ago, and he had all the signs…

Peter shook his head. He was being completely ridiculous even to consider it a possibility, but just to make himself feel better, he might as well make sure. Taking his Spider-Man suit off and feeling grateful that May was at work right now and wouldn’t question where he was going, Peter made a quick trip to the nearest drugstore. He felt a bit dumb buying female pregnancy tests, but the lady at the counter didn’t even look up when she scanned them, and if she had he supposed she would have assumed it was for a girlfriend or something.

Taking the tests home (the cheapest ones he had found came in a kit of three) and into the bathroom, he figured that if he was doing this, he might as well do it right, so he read the directions and followed each step carefully. He even calculated the number of weeks since his supposed conception (he would be about seven and a half weeks along) to make sure the test would work right, since it was only accurate once you were at least four weeks pregnant. Peeing on the end of the stick and setting it down carefully on the counter, he set the timer on his phone for three minutes and sat down on the lid of the toilet to wait.

As he sat there, he began to feel increasingly stupid. Had he really just spent money on a pregnancy test when he was a guy and literally couldn’t get pregnant? The test was clearly going to be negative. How dumb was he? Shaking his head in exasperation at himself, he jumped in surprise when the timer went off. He might as well just throw the test away, since he knew what it would show.

Peter stood up to grab the test off the counter, a length of toilet paper in his hand. He was already wrapping it up (so May wouldn’t see) when he flipped it over, exposing the front side of the test to view, and froze.

There, in the center of the white circle, was a clear blue plus sign.


	5. July (part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a bit carried away and might not go the way you expect it to, but I promise Tony will be back in the next one and that everything will be okay, so don't worry. Also I know Peter might seem like he's not making a very good decision but please keep in mind that he is freaking out and has a lot of emotional factors contributing to why he feels the need to do what he does, besides this is Peter we're talking about and really when does he not make dramatic impulse decisions?

Peter would have liked to be able to say that he stayed perfectly calm and most certainly did not freak out upon discovering that he was pregnant, but that was only true for maybe the first five seconds.

The first thing he did was drop the pregnancy test, then pick it back up. He blinked several times, then closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them. The sign on the test didn’t change.

That was when he freaked out.

Peter yanked the box of pregnancy tests off the counter, grabbing the two still left inside and peeing on both of them as fast as he could. Unable to stay still, he literally climbed the walls of the bathroom as he waited for the new results, ending up with his feet on the ceiling and the rest of his body dangling down, a pregnancy test in each hand. Looking between the two as fast as he could (getting slightly dizzy from what had essentially become him shaking his head back and forth constantly), he watched as a blue plus sign slowly formed on each. When it became clear that the signs weren’t going to change, no matter how much he shook the tests, Peter threw them down on the ground. He had to get out of here.

Peter rushed into his bedroom, throwing the door open. He grabbed his spider suit, hardly able to stand still long enough to get it on, and leaped out the window. He came flying back in only a second later, sprinting back into the bathroom long enough to shove all evidence of the pregnancy tests into a pocket of his suit. He couldn’t let May see those, after all. Or could he? She was going to have a grandchild, after all.

Oh my god. He was pregnant. He was going to have a kid.

Yep, back to getting out of here as fast as possible.

Peter dove out of his window, not even checking to see if it had closed behind him. He swung across the city, for once not looking for crime beneath him or listening in on police scanners. He vaguely heard Karen in his suit asking him if everything was all right, but it didn’t register enough for him to respond. By the time he came back to himself, he was crouched on top of a skyscraper, looking over New York City.

Just then, a wave of nausea hit him, and he ripped off his mask in record speed, not caring to check if there was anyone to see him. He doubled over, vomiting onto the concrete roof until he was just dry heaving. When he felt like he was finally done, he staggered over to the other side of the roof, shakily sitting down on the ground. “Fuck!” he yelled into the sky, before putting his head in his hands. He was so sick of throwing up all the time. But it wasn’t going to stop, was it? No, it wasn’t going to stop, because he was fucking pregnant. He really did have morning sickness, but nobody ever said that it was more like all-day sickness (he guessed maybe he should have read a few of those articles online). He was 15 and pregnant, like some kid on a TV show. He still had two years of high school left, not to mention college. He couldn’t even legally drive, vote, or drink, and yet there was a baby growing inside of his stomach.

Oh my god. There was a baby in his body. Right at that very moment. Peter looked down at himself, discovering that his hands had already gone instinctively to his stomach. What if he’d hurt it by swinging through the air like that? Oh my god, he’d been pregnant for seven weeks. He’d been out on patrol fighting criminals for every night of that. Had he ever gotten hit in the stomach? He couldn’t remember any times that it had happen, but he’d certainly gotten hit plenty of other places. He’d been putting the baby in danger every time he went out as Spider-Man.

Wait, would he have to stop being Spider-Man? Well, he’d have to at least until he had the baby, right? What about the people of New York? Who would protect them? But he couldn’t worry about that right now. He had to protect his family first, and in this case, that meant his unborn child. What was he going to do about them?

How had this happened to him? He was a guy, he wasn’t even supposed to be able to get pregnant. He supposed it had to be a consequence of his spider powers. But nobody could know he was Spider-Man, because it would put May (and now his kid) in danger. But if nobody knew he was Spider-Man, they wouldn’t understand how a man could get pregnant. Oh god, would they want to study him? Someone would, he was sure. It would open him up to way more danger than he already fought on a regular basis. And if he was in danger, that would put his kid in danger. What if someone tried to study his pregnancy and hurt his kid in the process?

Peter wasn’t completely sure when he had stopped thinking of the baby as an “it” and started thinking of it as his kid, but at some point in there he had realized something. He may not have even had this child yet, but he already knew that he would do anything to protect it. He had never expected this to happen and never would have wanted this to happen, but it had, and now he was going to deal with it and be the best father he possibly could.

Wait a second. He was the baby’s father of course, but the other father… Just like that Peter wanted to scream again. He was having a baby with Harry fucking Osborn, the guy who had cheated on him throughout their entire relationship, had never truly cared about Peter, and had used him for sex. Wow. Well, he certainly wasn’t letting Harry anywhere near their baby. Peter would rather spend the rest of his life as a single father than do that. Not that he would probably even believe him, that asshole. Peter could just imagine going to tell Harry that he was having his baby. Harry would either laugh in his face or accuse Peter of trying to steal his money somehow. Yep, definitely not father material.

Oh lord. Peter was going to be a father. If he had this baby, there was no going back. He would be a father for the rest of his life. He was way too young for that responsibility! But what else was he going to do? He could have an abortion, but those were only available to women. People would ask questions if he showed up to get one, questions he definitely didn’t want to answer. He could try to force himself to miscarry, maybe intentionally get kicked in the stomach a few times, but…if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to. Maybe it was just some kind of weird spider instincts taking over, but he already cared about this baby way more than he would have thought possible. Peter wanted to keep it.

Smiling a little to himself, Peter looked down at his stomach through his tears (when had he started crying? He hadn’t even noticed). “Looks like it’s you and me now, little guy,” he whispered softly. Obviously the baby couldn’t hear him yet, but it was still comforting to talk to it. Peter stayed on the roof, gently rubbing his stomach and murmuring comforting nonsense about how loved the baby was going to be and how hard he would try to take care of it. Finally, when his tears were all dry and the night was starting to get cool, he stood up on stiff legs. Peter knew what he had to do next.

If he stayed here, someone would inevitably find out he was pregnant. Questions would be asked, about who the father was, about how it was possible. Those questions would put both him and his child in danger. He had to leave before anyone could find out, and that meant tonight. The longer he stayed, the greater the chances of someone discovering, especially if medical took scans tomorrow. He couldn’t let that happen. If it had just been him, then sure, but not when it would put his baby at risk.

Peter swung home, webbing his way across the city. As he did so, he briefly wondered if this would be the last time he saw this city from this view, but pushed away the thought. He had priorities now, and if he lost sight of them it would shatter the temporary calm he had instilled in himself and send him straight back into panic mode.

He crawled into his room through the window, feeling a pang at the normalcy of it considering how abruptly everything else in his life had just changed. Focus Peter, he told himself. Stripping off his Spider-Man suit, he folded it up and left it on the desk like he normally did, making sure to remove the pregnancy tests that he’d intended to throw out and stick them in the pockets of his backpack instead. Everything had to appear normal, so that nobody would know why he had left. He forced himself not to imagine May finding his room completely normal but without him in it, knowing that if he did he would start crying again.

Next, he grabbed minimal clothing from the drawers, trying to take baggy clothing as well as things he didn’t wear that often. He got dressed in a t-shirt, hoodie, and jeans, trying to look inconspicuous while still hiding his face as much as possible (he snagged an old blue mask out of the drawer from one of his first Spider-Man attempts just in case; he knew Mr. Stark would have F.R.I.D.A.Y. searching camera footage for him and hoped that if needed it would hide his face while also not being similar enough to Spider-Man to draw attention). The contents of the drawers were all then carefully rearranged to cover the absence of the additional clothes. He also made sure to pack his wallet, all the money he kept in his room, and an old winter coat (as well as hat and gloves) from the back of his closet. After all, taking his warm one, which had been new last winter and was infinitely comfortable, would make it obvious that he intended on being gone for a while.

Step three was to dig into the secret compartment he had installed on the back of his desk for his old web shooters and all the fluid he had. He’d kept them just in case anything happened to his new suit, but now was glad he did, as he wanted to be prepared to defend himself if needed. He would have loved to take the suit with him, but he was positive Mr. Stark had a tracker in it, and that wouldn’t do. The same went, unfortunately, for his laptop and cell phone. They were all Stark brand, and while he was sure Mr. Stark wasn’t constantly tracking them the way he did the suit, they would be easy for him to tap into and locate once he realized Peter was missing.

Peter briefly considered using one of them as a decoy to throw him off, such as slipping the cell phone onto a train going someplace far away, but quickly dismissed it as being far too cruel: both had been gifts from Tony, and using them as a way to trick him felt like it would be throwing his kindness back in his face. It already hurt bad enough to think that he would soon be running and hiding from Tony, and the thought made his resolve waver for a moment. He trusted May and Tony with his life; surely he could just tell them the truth. Mr. Stark would help him keep it a secret and figure out what to do.

But no, that would be putting them in danger too, and Peter couldn’t have that. He refused to let anyone else get hurt because of him. Maybe someday he would be able to come back and tell them what had happened, and to hopefully let them meet his child, but for now he had to go. It was safer and better for everyone this way.

The last thing Peter did was sneak out of his room and into the kitchen, where he quietly made himself two sandwiches and grabbed an apple and some potato chips for the road (if he was supposed to be eating for two soon, would his already-fast metabolism speed up even more? So many questions). He then crept into May’s room, safe in the knowledge that she was a heavy sleeper, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ll come back, I promise.” She stirred ever so slightly, but didn’t wake.

A few minutes later, Peter crawled out his window for what might have been the last time. Armed with nothing more than a backpack and his web shooters, he kept his head down and made his way into the shadows of the night.


	6. August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to all the people who have left comments and kudos on this fic! I haven't had a chance to respond to them all yet but I really appreciate the support and encouragement and it definitely inspires me to write more and get chapters up faster! I know that this is kind of a weird idea so I'm really glad you guys are enjoying it as much as I am. Hope you like this next chapter!

Peter woke up to nausea, as he did more often than not lately. Rubbing his eyes, he threw off the covers and hurried to the bathroom, one hand over his mouth. It felt like his stomach was doing cartwheels around his abdomen, or maybe like it was trying to leap right out of his body. After puking his guts out into the toilet, he sat back on his heels and sighed. The nausea had been getting worse and worse as time went on, to the point where it wasn’t unusual for him to throw up four or five times a day. He wasn’t completely sure if that was normal, but hoped it was. Not that there was anything normal about this whole situation.

After leaving home, Peter had stopped at an ATM to take out all the money he had, knowing that he needed cash on the road if he didn’t want to be traced. Impulsively, he’d bought an early morning bus ticket for a remote town in Vermont that he had been to once before. When he’d gotten off the bus, Peter had checked the map to make sure he was in the right area, then began to follow a side road into the woods, walking next to the road instead of on it to avoid being seen.

The walk had taken him several hours, but eventually he'd turned onto a smaller road, and from there had found the path that led to the cabin. It was nearly dark, but Peter had been able to disable the security system with a code and then break one of the back locks to get in. The cabin belonged to Harry’s father, and Harry had brought him along on a weekend trip to it back in March. Harry’s father had declared his intentions of selling it at dinner one night, saying that it wasn’t big enough for them, but thankfully hadn’t gotten around to it yet when Peter arrived (not that that was too much of a surprise – Harry’s father had so much money and so many vacation homes that it would probably be at least a year before he remembered about this one, relatively small cabin).

Peter had been staying there for just over five weeks now. It was a pretty good deal, all things considered. Some kind of housekeeping service had been coming once a month to restock the food in the cabinets and clean, and though he’d nearly had a heart attack the first time they showed up while he was there, it meant that there was plenty to eat and no need to get groceries. Which was a good thing at this point, because Peter had developed an obvious (and surprisingly large, for this early on) baby bump over the last few weeks. Whenever he left the cabin, even if it was just to get some fresh air from the balcony and look at the view, he made sure to wrap something around his upper body to hide it. He figured that he couldn’t be too careful when it came to covering up his pregnancy. Fortunately, the cabin was very comfortable and had cable, so he was perfectly fine just staying inside it most of the time.

Well, not that fine. There were still a few days (okay, a lot of days) when he got whiplash from how suddenly his life had changed, or freaked out because he didn’t think he could handle being a parent, or cried because of how terribly alone he felt. And not a day went by that he didn’t miss Tony and May. But he now had the physical proof that he was right, that there really was a baby inside of him, and when he wavered he just thought of his family, all the people that he had to protect, and reminded himself that he was doing the right thing.

Peter was pouring himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast (he had learned that Cheerios wouldn’t agitate his stomach any further and were also easier to inevitably throw up than some of the more sugary cereals) when he felt the low hum of his spider sense in the back of his head. Someone must be coming. Shoving his bowl in the cupboard and taking the box of cereal with him, as the pantry was on the opposite side of the kitchen and the box was too big to hide in the cupboard, he sprinted upstairs to the room he’d been sleeping in and grabbed his backpack. Peter kept his web shooters on and his bag packed at all times, so that he could be ready to leave if something happened, and at times like this he was beyond grateful that he did. Creeping out onto the balcony, he surveyed the area behind the house for anything out of the ordinary and, finding nothing suspicious, shot a web into the trees.

Being out here, in what felt like the middle of the forest, had taught Peter that his spider powers made him really good at climbing trees, something he’d never had a chance to learn in the middle of the city. Leaping carefully from tree to tree, making sure to latch on only with his hands and feet so that his stomach wouldn’t bump anything (he would never forgive himself if he hurt his baby somehow – it had taken having a reason to be cautious for Peter to realize just how recklessly he threw himself around most of the time), Peter made his way to the top of a tall tree a slight distance away from one side of the cabin, giving him an excellent view of what was going on.

The first thing he noticed was the slightly hideous lime green car in the driveway, as if someone had tried too hard to be unique. The second thing was the short blonde lady who climbed out of the car, then picked her way delicately across the muddy driveway in her high heels. But the third, and worst, thing he saw was the giant “FOR SALE” sign sitting in the back of the car. Peter sighed heavily. Apparently Mr. Osborn had finally remembered about this place after all. That was just great.

He remained perched in the tree, watching as the lady went inside, most likely to take a look around. Peter wondered dully if she would find his cereal bowl. At one point, his enhanced hearing picked up her voice coming from inside the house, making arrangements on the phone for someone to come inspect the cabin tomorrow so that she could start scheduling visits from potential buyers.

It was in the middle of that conversation that Peter was hit by the now-familiar nausea. Without thinking, he turned his head to the side and retched, merely dry heaving because he hadn’t had a chance to eat any breakfast. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice the realtor come out of the cabin until she called out. “Hello? Is somebody there?” Peter froze, covering his mouth with one hand to silence his gagging.

“If somebody’s there, I’ll call the police,” she yelled, holding up her cell phone in one hand to prove it.

Please don’t look up, Peter pleaded silently as he watched her survey the trees for an intruder. Whatever you do, please don’t look up. To his utmost relief, she didn’t. Nonetheless, he stayed perfectly still as she walked around the cabin, terrified that even the slightest twitch would give him away. When she finally went back inside (after taking one more look into the trees that Peter was pretty sure had made his heart literally skip a beat from fear), Peter waited 30 seconds before scrambling down the tree as fast as he could. Once he reached the bottom, he turned away from the cabin and ran through the woods as quietly as he could. He had to get away.

After stumbling through the forest for a while, Peter emerged onto a road (he was pretty sure it was the one he’d taken before to reach the cabin; at least, he hoped it was). He carefully made his way back into the trees, walking parallel to the road from far enough away that he could just barely still see it, but no one should be able to see him. It was then, as he continued to walk along, that he burst into tears.

What was he going to do now? He couldn’t go back to the cabin, not now that there would be people showing up randomly at any time of day. He would have to be constantly on edge if he didn’t want to risk getting caught, and what would happen when he got too pregnant to make a quick escape leaping into the trees? No, staying there was too dangerous. But where else could he go? The cabin had been his one great idea, and he’d hoped to be able to stay there at least until he gave birth. He hadn’t made any contingency plans. All he had for food was this damn box of Cheerios that he was still holding for some reason.

The real problem was that by now, Peter was noticeably pregnant. He couldn’t do anything that would involve interacting with people without them being suspicious, either about his stomach or about why he was wearing a gazillion layers of clothing in summer. Even taking the bus back out of town wasn’t an option anymore. He had nowhere to go and no way to get there.

Realizing that made Peter cry even harder. He was so sick of being pregnant. Sure, he already cared deeply about his unborn child, but that didn’t mean he was enjoying the experience of creating them. He hated the nausea, the constant vomiting, the tiredness. How did so many women do this? Maybe it was easier for them because their bodies were actually meant to do this, but somehow Peter doubted it.

Most of all, he hated how isolated he was. He missed May and Tony so much it hurt. He was tired of having to deal with all of this on his own, of constantly being afraid, of trying to figure out what to do next. He wanted to go home to his family.

It was at that point that Peter realized he had reached the small town he’d arrived at when he first came to Vermont. Peering through the trees, he spotted an old payphone behind one of the buildings, and his resolve broke. Dropping the cereal to dig through his backpack pocket for some change, he remembered what Mr. Stark had told him in that bathroom several weeks ago. “You can’t do everything alone in the world.”

Peter shrugged on his winter coat and zipped it up over his stomach, then carried his backpack in front of him like a shield. He slipped out of the trees and walked over to the payphone, trembling despite the heat. Inserting four quarters and praying that it would work, he dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Hello?”

“M-M-Mr. Stark?” his voice quivered. “I think I need help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know Tony didn't actually make an appearance in this chapter like I said he would, but it's absolutely guaranteed that he'll be a huge part of the next one. I just always end up drawing stuff out longer than intended, oops!  
> Also if anyone was wondering, I definitely had the ending to this chapter planned ever since the scene in chapter 4 when Tony tells Peter it's okay to need help...


	7. August (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the Peter and Tony fluff we've all been waiting for! I enjoyed writing this chapter and I really hope you guys will like it too.  
> On that note, I've been trying to update this fic twice a day because I know I hate waiting long times for updates, but I'm pretty busy today and don't have that much time to write so next update probably won't be up until sometime tomorrow, sorry!  
> As always, please feel free to keep leaving kudos, comments, suggestions, questions, etc! Your support makes my day xx

Peter sat at the edge of the woods, clutching his backpack and Cheerios in front of him, still wearing the shabby winter coat in case anyone came by. He’d moved back down the road a little ways, hoping to be far enough from the town that nobody would come investigate when Iron Man showed up. Peter had assured Tony repeatedly that he was safe and that he could take his time coming to get him, but he was pretty sure Tony was still going to get here as fast as he could, at least considering how desperate he sounded on the phone, and that meant suit power.

Sure enough, within half an hour of making the phone call, Peter began to hear the distinct whine of repulsors approaching. Suddenly, a jolt of panic rushed through him, breaking the barrier of numbness and tears that had been surrounding him for the past few hours. What would Tony do when he learned why Peter had left? Would he be angry? Disappointed? Ashamed? Would he judge him, or throw him out the way you heard stories of parents doing to their pregnant daughters? What if he didn’t believe Peter, or thought he was a freak? What if he wanted Peter to get rid of the baby?

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Was it too late to run again? Peter was pretty sure he couldn’t handle rejection from Mr. Stark; the very thought felt like it would crush him. But then just like that the Iron Man suit was landing in front of him, and after a motionless moment (probably scanning for threats) the front was opening and there was Tony right in front of him, and he came for him, oh god he came –

Without warning, Tony enveloped Peter in a tight hug, ruffling his hair gently with one hand and clinging to Peter’s arm almost desperately with the other. “I missed you so much, kid,” he whispered softly, voice breaking for a moment.

“I missed you too,” Peter replied through his tears and oh, wait, had he been crying this whole time?

They stood like that for a few minutes, neither one willing to let go, before Tony finally broke the embrace and stepped back, dabbing at his eyes very conspicuously. “Okay, so, anyway, there’s a jet on its way with backup and a medical team. They should be here in a few minutes to pick us up, and then we can get you checked out, and we’ll figure everything out, I promise. I can find - ”

“No more people,” Peter whispered, his throat already tight from fear.

“What was that? Peter, you need to get looked over, in case you have any injuries that need to be treated.” Tony replied, confused and worried.

Peter cleared his throat, voice still shaky but coming out stronger than before. “I’m not injured and I don’t need to be looked over right now, I’m fine, really. No people yet. I won’t get on the jet if there’s other people on it, it’s not going to happen, Mr. Stark. I can’t let them see me like this, I just can’t.”

At that, Tony looked him straight in the eyes, full of seriousness and concern. “Why not, Peter?” he asked softly. “What’s going on?” And Peter knew that, for better or for worse, it was time for the truth to come out.

“Because of this,” Peter told him, lowering the backpack and cereal to the ground and shrugging out of the coat (thank god, that thing had been so hot and he felt so free finally being out of it) before stepping back so that his full body was clearly visible.

Tony looked him up and down, trying to determine precisely what had changed, but not showing any signs of recognition. After a moment, he raised his head back to stare at Peter, perplexed. “Because you…gained some weight? Are you embarrassed? Because no offense, but this seems a little extreme…”

Peter sighed in exasperation. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. No, because of _this_.” He lifted the hem of his t-shirt to reveal his stomach, a growing sphere where flat abs used to be. “I’m pregnant.”

Tony stared at him in silence. The longer he went without saying anything, the more nervous Peter became, until finally he started to ramble (the way he always did in awkward situations). “At least, I’m pretty sure I am anyway, I guess maybe not one hundred percent sure but at least ninety-eight? Probably even ninety-nine, the whole thing could be a fluke but it doesn’t seem like it, I have all the symptoms and the pregnancy test told me I was and…”

Tony held up a hand to stop him. “You’re pregnant.” He said flatly, eyeing Peter for any indication that this was a joke.

“Yep,” Peter responded, nodding his head. “That’s correct.”                 

Tony stared at him for a few moments more, before his eyes went down to where Peter’s hands were resting protectively on his stomach (the position had become almost instinctual ever since he started showing; Peter honestly hadn’t even realized he was doing it). When he finally spoke, it was slow and in an even, controlled voice. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I think it must be something to do with my spider powers, but I’m really not sure. I never imagined it would be possible until…well, until it happened.”

Tony eyed him for a few more moments, before nodding ever so slowly. “Okay. So. You’re pregnant. My teenage mentee is pregnant. That’s okay. I mean, we’re definitely going to have to talk about this a lot more, but stranger things have happened, right? Right. In that case, I guess I’m going to go call off the jet and call out a separate one without anyone on it, as long as you’re sure that we’re safe here? There’s nobody coming after you or anything?” He sounded a bit like he was in shock, but Peter couldn’t exactly blame him. This surely hadn’t been what he expected when Peter called asking for help.

“Nope,” Peter said, popping the p. “Nobody knows where I am or who/what I am.”

The statement made Tony look at him again briefly with sad eyes, as if considering something, before nodding once more and turning to go to his suit. He had a brief conversation with FRIDAY, instructing her to send a new jet, and then returned to Peter. “Okay, underoos,” he plopped down on the ground, patting the space next to him. “We’re going to be here for a while, so if you’re up to it, you might as well explain.”

Taking a deep breath, Peter carefully sat down beside him. He picked up his backpack without thinking, cradling it tight in his arms like a security blanket. After a moment’s hesitation, he looked down at his feet and started to talk.

He told Tony everything. How he’d slept with Harry just once, after Harry insisted, and how Harry hadn’t used a condom despite Peter asking him to. How he’d realized all his symptoms matched those of a pregnant woman and so taken a pregnancy test, only for it to be positive. How he’d run away in a panic and spent the last few weeks hiding in Harry’s father’s cabin until it was suddenly put up for sale. When he finally dared to look at Tony, after he finished talking, he saw tears glistening in the man’s eyes.

“Peter…” Tony spoke, and his voice crackled with emotion. “When I think of how scared you must have been…I’m sorry that Harry was such an asshole, and I’m sorry that this happened to you when you weren’t ready for it, but most of all I am so, so sorry that you didn’t feel you could come to me with this. I’m sorry that you felt like you had to do it alone.”

Peter shot up from where he’d been slouching as if someone had pulled him straight. “Mr. Stark! No! That’s not what happened. I-” He relaxed, but only minutely. “You were the first person I thought of going to. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I swear, I just…I was afraid that if I told you, it would put you in danger. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. But of course I trust you, I wouldn’t have called you for help if I didn’t.”

“Goddamn it, kid,” Tony chuckled weakly, eyes suspiciously bright. “You’re too much, sometimes, you know that?” Peter started to apologize, but Tony waved him off. “Not in a bad way, just…just c’mere for a moment.” And he pulled him into a hug, despite it being awkward since they were both still sitting.

Wrapped tightly in Tony’s arms, Peter felt completely safe and found himself relaxing for the first time in weeks. Just the feeling of it, the warmth and the fact that he wasn’t alone anymore, the knowledge that Tony had come and was here when he’d missed him so much...He started to cry again. “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he snuffled into Tony’s shoulder, but Tony shushed him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just let it out,” he murmured, rubbing Peter’s back comfortingly. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out together, and everything will be just fine. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” Peter gave in and cried harder, pouring out all his fear and loneliness from the past few weeks, rejoicing in finally having someone to hold him.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he finally stopped sobbing, but Mr. Stark was still holding him close, stroking his hair and whispering reassurances, and a part of him hoped that he would never let go. “Hey, kid?” Tony said quietly after a few more minutes.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever do that again, okay? I’m not mad, or upset at you or anything, and I completely understand why you left. I’m sure I would have done the same thing. But in the future...I can take care of myself. Please don’t run away again. I don’t know if I could handle it.” The last part was said so quietly that Peter almost wondered if he had imagined it.

A pang of guilt went through him at how sad Tony sounded, but it was distant. He was still enveloped in Tony’s hug and was far too cozy at this point to be upset anymore. “Yes sir,” he muttered sleepily. “I won’t. Never again.”

And as the two sat there in the woods, waiting for the jet to arrive, Peter fell asleep in Tony’s embrace. He finally felt at peace.


	8. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I know updating tomorrow somehow turned into updating a month and a half later, and I am so sorry for the long wait! Once I started this fic, I was trying to update it really fast and get it done before I went back to school, but it's turned into more of a beast than I expected, and obviously that didn't happen. I just started my first year of college, so things got crazy busy really fast, and I just haven't had the chance to work on this story the way I want to. However, don't worry, I promise this story isn't abandoned and will be completed eventually! I can't make any promises about how often or when there will be updates, but they'll come! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience and your continued support. As always, feel free to leave kudos, comments, suggestions, etc!! The only reason I got this update done tonight was because I looked back at some new kudos and comments from the past month and a half and got motivated, so they really do mean a lot to me. I hope you like this chapter!!!

Peter flopped back against the wall of the elevator with a sigh, making his way to the medical floor. After the first lurch of the elevator, he darted back forward to hit the special button Mr. Stark had installed to slow the elevator down for him, since they’d discovered the motion made him queasy (though when was he not queasy, at this point?). Relaxing once more as the elevator calmed, he closed his eyes and leaned backwards, resting his head against the cool metal. One hand came up unconsciously to rub his bulging stomach, the way it did nearly constantly these days. 

After Mr. Stark had picked him up from Vermont, the first thing they’d done (after Tony had fussed over him and tried to feed him everything in the kitchen and, oh yeah, let Peter fall asleep on him, though they didn’t talk about that part) was go to medical and run a whole bunch of tests. It had taken some convincing, but Tony had persuaded him to tell Dr. Helen that he was pregnant, since she had already proven herself trustworthy by keeping his secret about being Spider-Man and they needed a qualified medical professional to help deal with this. Peter had given in after a few minutes (he didn’t like the idea of telling people, but he knew deep down that he did trust Dr. Helen and that she probably would have something useful to say about the situation), and it had quickly proven to be the right call. She’d been shocked but professional and reassuring about the situation, and had even been able to do an ultrasound and confirm that yes, there was a baby inside his stomach (well not his literal stomach, as had been pointed out to him by the doctor when he made that comment, but some other part of him...they actually weren’t completely sure quite yet what part, but they were working on it at least, and sure, that was weird, but not Peter’s top concern at the moment); no, it was not just a fluke, he really was pregnant; and finally, yes, the baby did seem to be alive and healthy, even with a stronger heartbeat than usual. 

Since then, he’d been going down to medical at least twice a week for regular tests to make sure everything was fine, and so far so good. Sure, he was still throwing up (but only about 3 times a day at the moment!), and he had to pee, like, 24/7 for some reason, and oh yeah, his whole body ached constantly, but other than that he was doing great! No, he wasn’t, but the baby was, and that was the important thing, Peter thought. 

Besides, he was far more comfortable now than he had been. Tony was hovering near him almost every second of the day (except when Peter made the effort to tell him to go take a break and do something else, since surely he had a million more important things to be doing) to make sure he was alright, and though it got annoying once in a while, Peter had to admit he was grateful for the company. He hadn’t been able to leave the Tower, as they’d agreed it was too dangerous for him to risk being spotted (especially now that his stomach seemed to be growing almost exponentially) and even within it was contained to the top few floors that served as personal quarters, as well as the one Tony had renovated to serve as a Peter-specific medical center so that the nurses wouldn’t see him. Peter knew that soon he would get tired of being inside all the time, but for now just having Tony with him and knowing that he wasn’t alone anymore felt like a huge improvement over the cabin. 

Tony had been going so far out of his way to help and accommodate him, Peter probably would’ve been drowning in guilt if he wasn’t so appreciative. He had repurposed Karen so that the AI was constantly monitoring Peter’s health through a small band on his wrist, keeping track of his vitals and nutrition and generally making sure no weird complications were appearing. Tony was also keeping the kitchen stocked with six times more food than normal, trying to prepare in advance for all Peter’s weird pregnancy cravings (so far, the strangest one he’d gotten was an intense urge to dip flaming cheetos into vanilla pudding, and Tony had accommodated the request within minutes, despite making gagging noises as if he was going to be the one throwing up for once). He’d even gone above and beyond by personally designing new furniture for Peter when his growing belly made it impossible to continue sleeping on his stomach the way he liked, creating an adjustable bed with a large stretchy portion in the center that would be gentle on his stomach while still expanding to fit it. Tony was already talking about plans for Stark Industries to release a pregnancy line someday in the future, when doing so wouldn’t pose any threat of possibly revealing Peter’s secret, as he was constantly thinking up new ideas to reduce the strain. 

Basically, Tony had taken every measure possible to make sure that Peter was happily settled in, even staying in the Tower at nearly all times just to make sure that he was there if anything went wrong or if Peter needed anything. Peter’s heart still ached with guilt whenever he saw Tony hovering, well aware that half the reason the man was so clingy was because of how terrified he’d been when Peter disappeared. He tried to push those feelings away, considering he and Tony had already had a discussion about why they were uncalled for and unhelpful, but the levels of guilt kept rising thinking about how stupid he’d been, how badly he’d hurt everyone he loved…

But no. He’d done it for valid reasons, making a tough decision under even tougher, unforeseen circumstances, and nothing too bad had happened as a result. He’d done it to protect his baby, and his baby was still safe. That was what mattered.

With a ding, the elevator doors slid open, finally releasing him onto the medical floor. Mr. Stark was waiting just outside, swiping at something on a tablet, though he put it down as soon as he saw Peter. 

“Hey kiddo! How are you feeling today?” 

Peter rolled his eyes slightly. He’d insisted that he was fine by now to go to his medical appointments by himself, but Tony still showed up almost every day, asking the same exact question. As ridiculous as it was, he still couldn’t stop a small smile from popping up as he responded. “Still tired and might pee my pants if we don’t get in there soon, but I’ve only thrown up once today, so really I’m doing great!”

Tony laughed a bit and shook his head. “Well in that case, let’s move it! I’d hate for anything to happen to those pants after all.” Checking repeatedly to make sure Peter was behind him, he led the way through the double doors into the real medical area, where Dr. Helen was already waiting. They went through the basic tests, taking urine and blood samples and measuring his weight, fundal height, and blood pressure. She double checked that the baby’s heartbeat was still there (Peter tensed up when she said it sounded unusual, but relaxed slightly when she explained it was likely just due to his body not being built for this and wasn’t anything bad. Key word there being slightly), tested his mobility a bit, and then declared him good to go. 

“Try to calm down a little though, extra stress isn’t a big deal but won’t help you either,” Dr. Helen called knowingly after him as he left the room. Her words made Peter blush as he became aware just how fast his heart was pumping, and he suddenly realized that he might have been giving stilted answers to all of her questions during the checkup. Whoops.

Preoccupied yet again, Peter jumped when Tony came up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa there, bud, just me,” Tony reassured, rubbing gentle circles with his hand. “Are you ready?” He asked softly. 

Peter nodded, not trusting his voice as the nerves hit him once more. What if this all went wrong? What if she hated him? What if she thought he was a freak? 

Tony’s voice broke through to him once again. “Deep breaths. It’ll be okay.” He paused to glance down at his phone when it buzzed, then took a deep breath of his own. “If you need to leave or take a break or anything because it gets hard, just let me know. It’s no problem. Otherwise...May’s upstairs. It’s go time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliff hanger there, I meant for this chapter to be longer but really need to go to bed right now. Don't worry though, the next chapter will pretty much just be a continuation of this!


	9. September (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, so here's a pretty fluffy chapter to make up for it! I'm on winter break right now, so will try to post another chapter before classes start again.  
> Thanks for all the nice comments, I haven't had time to check in on this story for a while and was definitely much more motivated to write this chapter after reading your thoughtful words. As always, I hope you enjoy this, and feel free to leave kudos, comments, questions, constructive criticism, etc! Also, happy holidays to everyone who celebrates!

The entire ride upstairs, Peter felt like he might throw up, but not from morning sickness for once. A small part of it was excitement, because God, he’d missed May so much it practically hurt, and just to see her and make sure she was doing okay...it would be amazing. The rest of it was terror. He could hardly imagine a situation in which this conversation ended well, not that he had any idea at all how this was going to go. Would May call him an abomination? Would she storm out, or say it was a lie? Would she be disappointed in him? 

Thankfully (or not, because that meant it really was go time), his musings were interrupted by the elevator door sliding open. Peter froze, seeing the brown hair poking over the back of the couch. He might have stayed there in the elevator until the doors closed again were it not for Tony gently prodding his shoulder. Reluctantly, Peter made his way out into the landing. Before he could figure out what else to do, May heard them coming and spun around, full of life as always. “Tony! Did you…” Her voice trailed off the instant she spotted Peter. “Oh my god,” she whispered, quiet enough that even Peter’s enhanced hearing could barely pick it up. He stood there, watching her eyes fill with tears, and then suddenly a sweatered blur was up and rushing around the side of the couch to body slam into him with a hug. Peter paused for a moment, shocked, and then hugged her back with all his might, and the two of them stayed frozen for several minutes in the tight embrace. By the time they broke apart, May still stroking Peter’s hair gently and refusing to move too far away from him, both were sobbing. It was then that May looked down. “What is this?”

There was a pause as Peter debated how best to break the news. He was interrupted by May rushing back in for yet another squishing hug, whispering in his ear, “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We can work with it. I love you.” 

Choking back his tears (he hadn’t let himself acknowledge just how much he missed May until she was here and he was in her arms once more), Peter finally broke the hug and led May back to the couch. “May, I - I’m pregnant.” He stated, trying to keep his voice from shaking. It was best to just come straight out with it, right? How did teen moms, or any women for that matter, do this? 

May stared at him for a few seconds. “Is this a joke? Because come on Peter, really not the time for that.” When Peter’s response was only to shake his head mutely, her gaze fell down to his protruding stomach. May let out a sigh. “This is certainly not a conversation I ever expected to be having with you.” After several more seconds of silence, she looked back up and met his eyes. “Well? Tell me everything.” 

Half in shock at how (relatively) easily she was taking the news, Peter did just that. He explained about Harry (as briefly and cringelessly as possible), about how he’d started getting sick, about realizing that he was pregnant and panicking, about fleeing to the cabin in Vermont, and finally about calling Mr. Stark for help. “And now I’ve been here ever since, just getting checked up on in medical. We’re...not sure how safe it is for me to leave.” 

May stared at him, face carefully blank. “One moment,” she said, holding up a finger, before calling loudly, “Tony? Could you come back in here?” 

Moments later, Tony came slinking out from the other room, where he must have gone to give them some privacy once things were looking good. “Nice to see you May, how’s everything going out here?” He glanced back and forth between her and Peter hesitantly, and Peter gave him a subtle (nah, May totally saw it) thumbs up. 

“So, Tony,” May began in her you-better-watch-yourself voice. “How long has Peter been staying with you while I worried half to death about him, and you continued to tell me that there’d been no news?” 

_ Oh shit.  _ Peter leaned back, hoping to dissolve into the couch somehow. So much for things going well. He briefly imagined getting popcorn to watch the show, but dismissed the urge for drama. This was his fault, and he was going to stop things from getting any worse than they had to. 

Tony fidgeted under the pressure of May’s glare, the smile dropping off his face, but when he spoke his voice was strong. “I’m sorry for not telling you as soon as I found out, and I’m sorry that I let you worry, but it was Peter’s choice when to tell you the news.” The  _ “And I didn’t want to risk scaring him away again”  _ went unsaid, but Peter heard it loud and clear. 

It was time for him to speak up. “He’s right, May,” he told her, not making eye contact. “I...didn’t want you to know quite yet. I was scared.”

Just like that, May deflated. “Okay,” she replied after a moment, “I understand, sweetheart.” She pulled him in tight for another hug. “Oh, and Tony,” she called behind them a moment later. “You’re forgiven, but don’t let it happen again.” 

Tony came around to join them on the couch, putting his feet up and giving May a mock salute. “You got it, ma’am.” 

Peter relaxed into the cushions and watched May throw a pillow at Tony, basking in the familiarity of their bickering. He knew that later they would have to talk more seriously, about details and logistics like his health and living situation and visits, but for now he was beyond happy to simply enjoy having his family together. His growing family, he supposed, rubbing his ever-growing stomach gently. For all that he’d felt lonely during his time in Vermont, soon he would never be alone again, or at least not very often. 

Peter was starting to consider taking a short nap, what with how warm and content he was, when he felt his stomach...fluttering? Confused, he sat up a little, trying to figure out what the feeling was. It was a gentle motion inside of him, like small kernels of popcorn popping one at a time in his stomach. Peter absently rested a hand on his stomach as he thought about it, only to suddenly realize what was happening when he felt a light pressure on his hand. It was tiny, but very distinctly there. 

“Oh my god!” He shot upright in his excitement, nearly overbalancing and falling off the couch. The adults both turned to him instantly in concern, with Tony even standing up from the couch in case he was needed, though both relaxed when Peter’s face broke into a wide smile. “It’s the baby,” he exclaimed, looking back and forth between May and Tony eagerly. “I think it’s kicking!” 

May’s jaw dropped, and she lifted a hand towards Peter before stopping it midair. Peter didn’t hesitate to grab it and place it on his stomach, where he’d been holding his previously. They all waited in suspense for several moments, before May gasped and removed her hand in order to clap in excitement. “I felt it! Oh my god, Peter, I felt your baby kick.” 

And just like that, May was crying again (happy tears, Peter was pretty sure), and Tony was looking on in wonder (with suspiciously bright eyes) as Peter guided his hand to just the right spot, and Peter was so happy he thought he might burst. He’d never planned on or even imagined having a child, and had spent a lot of time over the past few months thinking about how much trouble this pregnancy was, nearly forgetting what the end result would be. But somehow, as he felt the baby kick inside of him for the first time, he knew that everything would be worth it in a few months, when he could finally hold his beautiful child in his arms. 


End file.
